Tweedle-dum

Once upon a time there was an old woman named Tweedle-dum. She was almost 100 years old. She lived with her husband Harry. They had one grown-up son named Orvil, who had married and given them six grandchildren.

One fine summer morning, Tweedle-dum took a walk with Alfred, her favourite grandson. The air was cool and the sky blue, and birds whistled in the trees. One bird in particular, flew by and twittered loudly:

"Tweedle-dee! Tweedle-dum dum dum!"

Old Tweedle-dum thought the bird was making fun of her. Clenching her fists and puffing out her chest, the angry old woman threw a rock at the bird. Thrown by a feeble old woman, the rock missed its mark entirely. With an ominous whistling sounds, it plunged back down and struck Alfred on the head. He fell to the ground, dead.

Now Tweedle-dum was quite devastated, I assure you. But, with her own welfare in mind, she became quite resourceful. She trussed up her grandson all nice and handsome, and carried him into town, to the orphanage.

Tweedle-dum was not passed taking advantage of the young and innocent. There was a new director of the orphanage, a nice young lady named Anna. Tweedle-dum brought her son in a wagon to the front door.

"Open up!" She cried.

Anna opened the door, quite flustered.

"My grandson is dead, and I have no one to help provide for me in my old age. Nothing is left for me. I can hardly fend for myself! Woe is me!" Tweedle-dum sniffed convincingly.

"Well, uh, wh-what can I do?" Anna asked timidly.

"Don't you recognize him?! He used to come to this orphanage! Now I have nothing to pay for a funeral!" Tweedle-dum sobbed.

"Well, I shall give you something for your troubles. I'm sorry about the boy." Anna said kindly.

"Sucker!" thought Tweedle-dum, as she happily walked home with two bolts of expensive cloth. All her neighbours were shocked at such wealth, and asked how she acquired it.

"I accidentally killed my grandson, and the butcher wanted fresh meat, so he gave me a good trade." Tweedle-dum shrugged nonchalantly.

So all her gullible neighbours killed their grandsons and brought them to the butcher. Of course he was appalled and sent them all away, threatening to call the asylum. The neighbours were furious. They vowed never to speak to Tweedle-dum again.

Tweedle-dum took her husband Harry for a walk down by the river, a fast and furious river with raging white water and rocks. Along came an innocent bird.

"Tweedle-dum! Tweedle- dum dum dum!"

Tweedle-dum thought she was being made fun of. She grabbed a rock and hurled it at the bird. She missed terribly and the rock plunged down and struck Harry on the head. He fell down dead.

Tweedle-dum was extremely sad, I tell you. But she was always looking to make profit. So she sat Harry up next to the river, with an axe across his knees and a pile of wood next to him. She hid behind some trees and waited.

Along came a young man with a horse and wagon. He called out to Harry, obviously not realizing he was dead.

"Hey old man! How much for a stack of wood?"

But Harry did not answer. Duh. The young man thought he was deaf, so he screamed louder. Still no answer. The young man flew into a rage, and kicked Harry in the back, sending him toppling into the river, where he was whisked away.

Tweedle-dum took this opportunity to appear.

"How dare you do that! My husband!" She wailed.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Take my horse and don't tell a soul. I swear I'll leave and you will be richer." The young man stammered.

Tweedle-dum pretended to think for a moment, and then agreed. She went home with a strong horse. Her neighbours were amazed, and wondered how she got it.

"Well, the livery. I accidentally killed my husband, and the owner needed fertilizer. He traded me."

So all the neighbours killed their husbands and brought them to the livery. The owner of course turned them away. The neighbours plotted to get rid of Tweedle-dum for good.

They captured her one day and shoved her in a barrel, with holes riddled down the sides, so it would fill with water. They brought her to the edge of the river. Then, they heard someone coming. They stashed their prisoner in some bushes and ran away.

An old sheepherder came. He was bent and grizzled, with one foot and missing fingers. He found Tweedle-dum and rescued her. She explained what had happened to her.

"Oh please! Let me take your place! I have nothing left to live for, and that would certainly be an adventurous way to go!" The old man cried.

So he hopped into the barrel, letting Tweedle-dum herd his sheep to her house. The neighbours returned, and happily chucked the barrel into the river. They all went to the pub to celebrate, and didn't get home until the next day. When they saw Tweedle-dum, they were astonished.

"How did you do it? And where did you get all those sheep?" They asked.

"Well." Tweedle-dum grinned maliciously. "At the bottom of the river were all kinds of riches. All you have to do is hop into a barrel and go to the bottom. There is plenty left."

All the neighbours put themselves into barrels and rolled into the river.